The Devil That He Is...

The night sky wore as a garment, a bloody blue robe of darkness that stretched over the vacant valley of death. A man has fallen to a miserable cavity in Earth...nay, an Abandoned Angel lay ravaged in this shadowy cave, his baneful screams encrypting vile deeds as if unholy calligraphy etched the rocky walls. He grasps his head in horrific recollection of his recent betrayal, "You witch!" he muttered while clenching his teeth, and pulling tightly upon his long smooth hair; it was once an elegant silver in color, but now turns as black as his own shadow, an opaque complexion dyed by painful, menacing memories of the lover that had dropped him to this dark place. She was an Angel to him before the fall, but now he undergoes a most wicked transformation into a demoniac entity that should not exist in this world...an enemy of mankind is The Devil That He is.

His pale innocent skin now stained with a permanent light-crimson from the tearful blood that poured down from his eyes and the gush of red fluid that showered upon him as if a geyser from his broken heart. His once untarnished finger nails now as black as charcoal from clawing at the interior walls of the cave in absolute hopelessness. His joints are stiff and burn as though an acidic substance flows through his veins...the anger and grief from his dreadful heartbreak has cursed his body, now only hatred fuels the movement of his limbs.

A demon that despises his own life, why he continues to live is a mystery...does he seek revenge against that treacherous angel that drove him to this? Nay...The Devil That He is...his new-founded intent is much more twisted, insidious, and destructive then simple vendetta. His insatiable thirst for total annihilation will not be satisfied until he has unleashed all of his suffering upon the entire world; he is the Lord of Torment; Corrupter of Children; Divider of Families; Bringer of War; Slayer of Marriage; the Minister of Destruction, and purveyor of all manner of evil that encompasses even the most unimaginable of crimes....The Abandoned Archangel.

The crackle of monstrous thunder awoke his senses from the lamenting self-scorn that kept him contained in the filthy corridor of his dark cave. He moved slowly through the muddy halls toward the beam of moonlight at the cave's entrance, the fingers of his right hand dragged senselessly across the jagged walls as if to bid farewell to his perilous abode while his left arm dangled sadly. At the exit of the cave, he looked up at the tinted red sky....as if searching for someone, but not a lifeform to be seen. He centered his head back on the horizon and knew that he would travel for miles before reaching the first town...before meeting his first victims.

He began walking....his every footprint left smoking remnants beneath his hateful boot, each step bringing him one meter closer to unleashing his malevolent benediction on any that crossed his path. The hot dry winds of the harsh canyon blew his opaque hair gracefully, as if the innocent beauty of the Angel that he once was still managed to penetrate through his expressionless melancholic face and fiery red eyes. Though..The Devil That He is...even the sweat on his brow radiated with bitter toxicity, he was truly cloaked in a cancerous demeanor; an aura that would set flowers aflame and cause insects to shrivel and die if they strayed too close to him. Weeks of travel passed, a small town finally lay within his sights and he was on a murderous journey indeed. His beautifully-sinister lips formed a most vile grin while his cold red eyes grew narrow as if his gaze had already pierced the townspeople with an arrow of indiscriminate execution. He graciously stroked back his devilish black hair and placed his right hand firmly on his chin while asking himself "Now then...what shall the Devil do?"

Glad you're enjoying the story Vignette. I'm not going post in this group anymore though, because my writing doesn't seem to have a place here. I moved my story to the "I Write Short Stories" group instead at: <br /><br /><a href="http://www.experienceproject.com/stories/Write-Short-Stories/1084369?edited=t." target="ep_blank">EP Link</a><br /><br />The Devil That He is only the first chapter of the full book, as I am still working on the story. It is titled "The Abandoned Archangel Chronicles" and there are many more chapters that I plan to write for it. It may even turn into some sort of novel, who knows..right now I'm just doing it for fun.

More From People Who Write Poetry

I am so over you ...
I'm not going to stress over you ..
I'm not going to cry after you ..
I'm not going to beg you ..
No not anymore ..
I am so over you ...
It's not worth it .. Nothing is worth it ..
My tears .. Your not worth them ..
My care .. Your not worth it ..
My love...

I’m great, fine, spectacular. In a way
I relish every night, and I live every day.
I live, I laugh, I write, I sing,
I wonder what the new days will bring.
Then I get home, and I take off the mask.
The day, an almost impossible task,
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WRINKLES
(c) 2015 Edward York
The battles you have fought in life,
Are not without a trace.
Each battle fought left it's mark,
That is written on your face.
Your face is like a story book,
Each story on display,
The wrinkles are the chapters,
They show the prices that you pay...